


speak slow

by nocturnes



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic, Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, MAMA Verse, RPF, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:10:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnes/pseuds/nocturnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongin and Kyungsoo deal with what the job they have taken on really means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	speak slow

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://thatdayismine.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://thatdayismine.livejournal.com/)**thatdayismine** , because feelings are the worst and I commiserate. ♥ I am sorry that this took me an age to finish. ;~;
> 
> 1\. I was asked for "a small fluffy drabble" and it ended up like this. I don't know either.
> 
> 2\. Inspired by those 2 seconds in the MAMA MV where Kyungsoo looks at Jongin like "are you serious right now?". [yes](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KH6ZwnqZ7Wo#t=2m24s).

Jongin is late.  
  
Again.  
  
You’d think that dating someone who can teleport would mean that they would be on time more often, but in Kyungsoo’s experience, evidently not.  
  
He shivers in his jacket, rubbing his hands together for warmth. Above him, the orange cast of the streetlight catches the light mist of rain in a mid-fall glow. It’s been drizzling on and off all day, and Kyungsoo has been out here long enough to worry about catching a cold. If the moisture ruins this jacket, Jongin will have hell to pay.  
  
“Boo,” a voice to the left of him says, out of nowhere.  
  
Kyungsoo resists the urge to roll his eyes. “The air around you cracks when you appear, Jongin. It is literally impossible for you to sneak up on anyone if they are paying attention.”  
  
Jongin shrugs, grinning as he walks closer. “I didn’t want to sneak up on you anyway. Last time that happened, you sunk an SUV into the ground, remember?”  
  
Kyungsoo flushes at the memory. “That was an accident,” he says. He had been wearing headphones, and Jongin had put his hands on his waist without warning. He had jumped a foot into the air, and when he had hit the ground, well… Jongin should have thought of that. Since then, he has been working on sensing vibrations through the ground with his feet. Jongin would have to try hard to surprise him now. “You know that. And it was your fault.”  
  
Jongin shrugs. “Not my fault you react so strongly all the time.”  
  
“I do not!” Kyungsoo says, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
“Uh huh.” Jongin steps close enough to run his fingertips along the shell of Kyungsoo’s ear and down his jaw line to rest against the underside of his chin. He presses down, just slightly, to tilt Kyungsoo’s head up towards his. Kyungsoo’s breath hitches. Jongin stares down at him, eyes intense, entirely aware of just how little he has to touch Kyungsoo to make him feel like he’s caught on fire. Kyungsoo has never been good at hiding it. “Stop trying to injure me with your eyes, then.”  
  
“You’re late,” Kyungsoo huffs, taking a step back away from Jongin’s hand. As he withdraws, he can feel the imprint of Jongin’s fingers still lingering on his skin, hot against the chilly night air. “If we hurry, we can still make the 8:20 showing.”  
  
Jongin shoves his hands in his pockets, and he has the decency to look sheepish. “I know. Joonmyun had an emergency back at HQ and I was the only one who—”  
  
Kyungsoo swallows. He knows how it starts. “You have to leave again now, don’t you.”  
  
Jongin keeps his eyes fixed on the pavement. “Yeah. Look, I’m sorry, if I could I—”  
  
“Save it,” Kyungsoo says. He steps closer and places his hands on Jongin’s shoulders, lifting himself up to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I know how important it is.”  
  
If one of them isn’t busy, it’s the other. Last time, Kyungsoo had been called out to do surveillance on a mission with Chanyeol and Baekhyun. He’s getting good at sensing the movements of people around him on the ground, and he’s the only one who can. No one else can move like Jongin, either.  
  
Last time, when Kyungsoo had come home, he had found Jongin asleep on the couch, stretched out against the back with his legs underneath a throw blanket, his neck bent at an awkward angle against the armrest. Take out Chinese containers had been spread out over the coffee table, only half opened, and the main screen for the latest Harry Potter DVD had been up on the TV screen. None of it had been spectacular or even anything other than ordinary, but when Kyungsoo thinks about Jongin curled into the back of that couch like he had fallen asleep saving him a space, a lump rises into his throat that he doesn’t quite know how to explain away.  
  
Jongin lifts Kyungsoo’s hands from his shoulders and holds them against his chest, pressed over his breastbone. The gesture feels more intimate than the kiss had, somehow. Kyungsoo glances up to find Jongin looking down at him through his eyelashes, a smile curving up one side of his mouth. It’s unfair, really, how attractive he always is right when he has to leave.  
  
“I’ll make it up to you,” he says.  
  
Kyungsoo snorts, shaking his head as he pulls his hands away. “You’d better. Go.”  
  
Jongin winks at him, then snaps his fingers and disappears, air cracking around him.  
  
“Show-off,” Kyungsoo mutters. He smiles at the spot where Jongin had been standing. Sometimes he thinks he’s just imagining it, but after Jongin disappears the air always smells like ozone, fresh and a little electric, like the earth after it rains.  
  
\--  
  
“Are you asleep?”  
  
Kyungsoo mumbles something incoherent, burying his face further into his pillow before he lifts his head up to peer blearily at the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand. 3:21. It’s early, compared to what it’s been like lately. He doesn’t sleep well without Jongin, but he usually manages a few hours. The last few times Jongin has come back at dawn or even later, and Kyungsoo has taken to stocking up on extra dark coffee.  
  
“Not anymore,” he says, turning over and stretching his arms up above his head.  
  
“Sorry.” Kyungsoo watches as Jongin’s silhouette reaches up to scratch at the back of his head. It takes his eyes a moment to adjust, but then Jongin is leaning over him, the whites of his eyes bright in the darkness. “Mission didn’t go well.”  
  
“Is everyone okay?” Every time Jongin gets called out the fear hits him again, no matter how hard he tries to push it back. It’s something they all have to live with, he knows that, but that doesn’t make it any easier. “Are _you_ okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” Jongin says. “I am. There were some really close calls. Think Baekyun might have sprained his ankle but—fuck I’m so exhausted. I don’t want to talk about it now.”  
  
“Get in here, then,” Kyungsoo says, but there’s no bite to it. He closes his eyes again and listens to Jongin shuffle over to the other side of the bed, followed by the soft drop of fabric on the carpet as he strips off his shirt. The comforter rustles around him and then Jongin is pressed up next to him, warm and solid, with an arm wrapped around his waist.  
  
“I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see you,” Jongin says, muffled into Kyungsoo’s neck, so quiet he almost misses it. He makes it sound inane, but Kyungsoo knows that it’s anything but. He digs his fingernails into Jongin’s forearm without really meaning to. Jongin pulls him just a bit closer, nudging him so that Kyungsoo’s back is pressed up against his chest, his ass cradled against his thighs.  
  
Kyungsoo doesn’t like to talk about this. The first and only other time Jongin had mentioned it, they had just gotten home from celebrating their first successful mission with the rest of the team. Both of them had drunk a little too much red wine, and Kyungsoo remembers leaning up against the wall near the entranceway to their apartment, laughing hard with his forearm covering his mouth as he had watched Jongin trip all over himself to get his boots off.  
  
When he had finally managed, Jongin had walked over to Kyungsoo with all of his usual fluidity still intact. He had been wearing a black button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone to show off the skin of his chest. Kyungsoo remembers watching the way his muscles had shifted underneath the fabric, and how he had wanted to peel it away.  
  
“Knew you’d regret buying boots with all those buckles,” he had said instead, grabbing Jongin by the belt loops of his skinny jeans and pulling him in closer before wrapping his arms around his neck. “They’re practically a hazard to humanity.”  
  
“Hey, those buckles are hot,” Jongin had replied, hands creeping under the fabric of Kyungsoo’s t-shirt to stroke at the skin of his hips.  
  
“Whatever you want to think,” Kyungsoo had said, unable to stop himself from pressing into Jongin’s hands. Jongin had paused then, hands stilling and face growing serious.  
  
“Kyungsoo,” he had said. “Look at me.” Kyungsoo had slowly dragged his eyes up to meet Jongin’s, any arousal that had started to curl in his stomach replaced by something more like dread as he took in Jongin’s expression. “If anything ever happens to you, I—”  
  
“Don’t,” Kyungsoo had said, pulling Jongin’s mouth down to his. He had distracted them both, hoping that Jongin would get the message. In two years, he hadn’t mentioned it again, and Kyungsoo had thought he had.  
  
“Don’t,” he says now. It’s barely above a whisper, but the room is still enough that he feels like he might as well have shouted it. Jongin tenses up against his back.  
  
“We can’t just keep pretending that—”  
  
“Just not… just not now, okay?” Kyungsoo says. He folds his arm over Jongin’s against his waist, his smaller hand coming to rest over Jongin’s larger one. A hot puff of air hits the back of his neck as Jongin sighs.  
  
“All right,” Jongin says. “But later.”  
  
“Mmm,” Kyungsoo hums, non-committal. Jongin is warm up against his back, and falling asleep is suddenly much easier.  
  
\--  
  
Kyungsoo wakes up when he rolls over to the other side of the bed only to find it empty. The sheets on Jongin’s side are cold, and he panics for just a second before he detects the smell of coffee floating in from the kitchen. He stretches his arms over his head as he walks out of the room, then reaches down to tug his t-shirt farther down over his boxer briefs. Jongin is wearing only a pair of sweatpants slung low across his hips, and he leans against the kitchen counter as he waits for the coffee to finish brewing.  
  
“Morning,” he says. Kyungsoo watches the movement of the muscles in Jongin’s arms as he picks up the carafe and pours himself a mug full. “Do you want any?”  
  
Kyungsoo wrinkles up his nose. “You know I hate coffee.” Jongin shrugs, walking over to the silverware drawer to dig out a teaspoon.  
  
“Thought I’d ask anyway,” Jongin says, back to Kyungsoo. “You haven’t been sleeping enough.”  
  
“As if you’d know,” Kyungsoo mutters.  
  
“What?” Jongin says, transferring his mug to the front counter in front of Kyungsoo. After he sets it down, he leans forward, forearms braced against the counter.  
  
“Nothing.” Kyungsoo bites his lip and twists the hem of his t-shirt between his hands, uneasy and unable to actually look at Jongin. The counter between them is a welcome barrier.  
  
“We both know it’s not, so don’t even try that with me.” Jongin stares down at his coffee, spooning in sugar and stirring it with one of the touristy teaspoons Kyungsoo collects from the places they’ve gone: Tokyo last fall, Busan the summer they had first met. This one has Lotte World written on it. They don’t have the time to go far anymore. “Cut the bullshit.” He says it calmly, mug raised halfway to his mouth, but Kyungsoo feels it hit harder than he would have expected it to. Jongin doesn’t swear unless they’re about to get into something serious.  
  
Kyungsoo takes a deep breath and exhales shakily, steeling himself because really, if he’s going to be honest with anyone, Jongin is that person. He always has been. “I—it’s stupid. But I feel like you’re gone all the time, and if you’re not, I am. I never see you. And then you had to go and bring up—”  
  
Jongin stills with the edge of the mug pressed against his full lower lip. Kyungsoo can’t look at his face, so he watches Jongin’s tan hands wrapped around the red ceramic of the mug, long fingers overlapping at the ends. “I’m sorry,” Jongin says, setting the mug down again. His voice catches in his throat, and Kyungsoo knows he’s genuine.  
  
“What are you even sorry for,” Kyungsoo says, surprised and a little angry to find his eyes stinging and growing hot before he closes them hastily. He presses the heels of his palms against his eyelids, and he doesn’t want to think about how he looks right now. “I’m just… being stupid. God. I know we both have to, and I know I’ve been avoiding—”  
  
He registers the crack through the air and the barely tangible waft of ozone before he realizes what it means. Jongin’s hands are hot on his wrists, pulling his hands away from his eyes. “You’re not,” Jongin says, desperate. “Fuck you’re not. You’re right. We’ve… both been gone too much. And I’m sorry for that. I’ll work on it… talk to Joonmyun or something. And I’m sorry for mentioning—”  
  
“Don’t be sorry for that,” Kyungsoo whispers. He still doesn’t want to think about it.  
  
“Later,” Jongin says, like it could be that easy. But it’s a lifeline, and Kyungsoo will take what he can.  
  
“Did you just teleport around the kitchen counter?” He can feel the tears running hot down his cheeks, but Jongin doesn’t say anything, just wipes them away with his thumbs.  
  
“Perks,” Jongin says, smiling wide and bright, the genuine, unrestrained one that Kyungsoo hadn’t realized he missed. He suddenly feels bizarrely giddy, and he can feel the laughter bubbling up in his chest. When he chuckles Jongin stares at him, eyebrows raised.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
“I won’t be if you don’t kiss me already,” Kyungsoo says, smiling a little in return before he wraps his arms around Jongin’s neck.  
  
“So demanding,” Jongin replies, but his smile gives him away. He puts his hands on Kyungsoo’s hips, warm and firm, and Kyungsoo shivers because god, it’s been so long.  
  
“You like it,” he says, feeling bolder than he has in a while.  
  
“Yeah,” Jongin says, leaning in. “I do.”  
  
“Ugh you have coffee breath.” Kyungsoo tilts his head away. “Gross.”  
  
Jongin just rolls his eyes at him, pulling him closer and leaning in again as his right hand comes up to wrap around the back of Kyungsoo’s neck to angle his head how he wants it. “Do you want me to kiss you or not?”  
  
“Yes,” Kyungsoo manages. “Of course I—” and then Jongin is kissing him, soft and hot and god it feels like an age since they last did this. Kyungsoo had almost forgotten what Jongin feels like under his hands. He moans into Jongin’s mouth, all self-consciousness gone, and lets his fingers drift over the muscles of Jongin’s shoulders, feeling him out.  
  
Jongin takes it infuriating slow, keeping the hand on Kyungsoo’s hip over the material of his t-shirt and lightening up his kisses again as soon as Kyungsoo starts getting impatient. He licks into Kyungsoo’s mouth, hot and wet and absolutely maddening. Kyungsoo is just starting to think they’re getting somewhere when Jongin pulls away from his mouth and trails tiny kisses down his neck. The pressure of his lips is so soft it almost isn’t there, but Kyungsoo feels too sensitive, rubbed raw by everything Jongin is doing. When Jongin starts sucking a mark on his collarbone, Kyungsoo yanks himself away to glare at him.  
  
Jongin has the audacity to laugh at him under his breath as he pushes Kyungsoo’s fringe away from his eyes, then moves both hands to rest on his hips. He rests his forehead against Kyungsoo’s as they both catch their breath.  
  
Kyungsoo breathes in shakily, trying to calm himself down a little. Jongin’s breath is hot against his mouth, so close but not nearly enough. He moves his hands down to play with the elastic of Jongin’s sweatpants, staring at his hard cock tenting the front, and god he _wants_ so much it hurts.  
  
Kyungsoo palms Jongin through the fabric, smirking slightly when he gasps and presses himself into his hand. “I swear to god, Jongin, if you do not touch me right now, there is going to be a crater in the middle of the apartment floor, and it is not going to be fun to explain that to the landlord.”  
  
“I’d kind of like to see that,” Jongin says, but he reaches for the hem of Kyungsoo’s t-shirt anyway, pulling it up an over his head to discard on the floor. “It would be fun.”  
  
“You’re ridiculous,” Kyungsoo says, pushing Jongin’s sweatpants down to his knees. He’s not wearing anything underneath, and Kyungsoo sucks in a breath harsh through his teeth. Jongin toes them off and then just stands there, as at ease naked as he is in his clothes. Kyungsoo has always envied his confidence just a little, because he still isn’t close to that point, even after the three years they have already been together. He wants to reach out and touch, but he holds himself back.  
  
“Your power is hot, what can I say,” Jongin says, thumbs hooking in the elastic of Kyungsoo’s underwear before he decides better of it and runs a finger up Kyungsoo’s hard cock through the fabric instead.  
  
“Ridiculous,” Kyungsoo says, arching into Jongin’s palm. “Why am I even dating you.”  
  
“I’m multi-talented.” Jongin grins and pulls Kyungsoo’s underwear down his hips, stepping back to let Kyungsoo wiggle out of them until they’re pooled on the floor.  
  
“Prove it,” Kyungsoo says, crossing his arms over his chest. Jongin’s mouth twitches, like he’s trying to hold back laughter. His eyes scan down Kyungsoo’s body from his flushed face down to his cock jutting out, hard and ready against his stomach. Kyungsoo doesn’t want to think about how he looks right now.  
  
“You asked for it,” Jongin says, letting the grin finally break out over his face. His hands grip around Kyungsoo’s hips, tighter than usual, and then—  
  
then Kyungsoo is standing in the bedroom, back to the bed with Jongin in front of him, air smelling a little of ozone.  
  
“I—oh my god,” Kyungsoo says, gaping. “I didn’t know you could do _that_.”  
  
“I’ve been working on it.” Jongin says, smug. He grins again, wide and full, and finally wraps his hand around Kyungsoo’s cock, thumb circling around the slit. “See? Multi-talented.”  
  
“Just fuck me already,” Kyungsoo says, gasping as he fucks into Jongin’s hand, wanting more friction than he’s getting. Jongin is too much taller than he is, and the angle is awkward. He steps backwards to sit on the bed instead and ends up misjudging the distance, hands scrambling to push him up again after he falls backwards on the mattress.  
  
Jongin chuckles at him, smiling softly, before he leans down to kiss him again, soft and sweet. He pushes Kyungsoo back, and Kyungsoo shifts so that he’s leaning back against the pillows at the top of the bed, propped up on his elbows as Jongin hops up to kneel over his legs.  
  
He palms Kyungsoo’s cock again, barely pressing down and not giving Kyungsoo nearly as much as friction as he wants. Even the skin of Jongin’s thighs against his own is making him tense up, heat curling in his stomach, and he has no idea how he even made it this long. He can’t remember the last time the two of them did anything more than kiss.  
  
“How do you want it?” Jongin asks, hand curled around Kyungsoo’s cock again and stroking slowly, enough to wind him up but not give any relief. He lets go for a moment to kiss Kyungsoo properly, one hand catching in his hair and the other cupped around his cheek. His hips shift forward as he does, and Kyungsoo gasps into his mouth, arching up into him.  
  
“God just—” Kyungsoo gasps, shifting his hips underneath Jongin to find the right angle. “I can’t last if we… can you just—”  
  
“Yeah,” Jongin says, “yeah okay. It’ll be easier if I—okay.”  
  
He moves off Kyungsoo without warning and sits up next to him, legs stretched out in front of him. Kyungsoo wants to glare at him, because he doesn’t see how this is helping anything, but then Jongin mutters, “Come here,” and he lets himself be led over to straddle Jongin’s thighs. The air is cool against the sweat covering his back. Jongin’s palms are hot as they move down and around to squeeze his ass, shifting him forward until their cocks can rub against each other, hard and fast along with the movements of their hips.  
  
Kyungsoo shifts his hips along with the pushes from Jongin’s hands, steadying himself with his arms wrapped around Jongin’s shoulders. He buries his face into Jongin’s neck, gasping hotly against sweaty skin as Jongin’s hips work under his. He’s so wound up that it doesn’t take him long before the heat in his stomach builds and explodes, and he has to close his eyes, feeling dizzy as he clings onto Jongin’s shoulders and comes over both their stomachs. Jongin follows not long after, shifting his hips to rub his cock against the soft skin of Kyungsoo’s inner thigh.  
  
Kyungsoo watches his face as he comes, eyes scrunched up and mouth slightly parted, red and spit-slicked. The urge to kiss him is overwhelming, so he does, pushing Jongin’s sweaty bangs away from his eyes and kissing him soft on the mouth, all urgency gone and replaced by a heady, slow warmth. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed feeling like this, sweaty and wrapped up in Jongin like they have all the time in the world. They don’t, not really, and one of them could get called out five minutes from now, but Kyungsoo makes a mental promise to himself to take more time.  
  
“God that was mmpfh—” Jongin starts, but Kyungsoo cuts him off with another kiss. The warmth starts to fade and he feels sticky and shivery, worn out from the exertion he’s no longer used to. He looks down at both of their stomachs and scowls. He needs to get them a towel.  
  
“Are you okay?” Jongin asks, tilting Kyungsoo’s head up so that he can look him straight in the eye. He’s biting his lip, and Kyungsoo knows his tells well enough by now to know that he’s concerned about the answer. He hears the unspoken _Are we okay?_ and he leans in to kiss Jongin softly in reassurance, lingering over his full lower lip.  
  
“Yeah,” he says, pulling away, but only as far as he has to. “I am.”  
  
---


End file.
